Page 75 of Temptation and Tyranny

Within twenty minutes, the office was filled with a group of men and women, all exuding an air of competence and danger. Steele introduced them rapidly—Mario, Cooper’s right-hand man; Zara, a tech expert; Murphy, a former Special Forces operative; and several others whose names blurred together in my overwhelmed state.

“Alright, people,” Steele said, his voice commanding everyone’s attention. “We have a rescue mission. Cooper Moreau was taken by Laurent Rousseau. He’s injured, possibly critically. Our job is to get him out.”

He turned to me. “Miss Prescott, I need you to tell us everything you can about where they’re holding Cooper. Every detail, no matter how small, could be crucial.”

I closed my eyes, forcing myself to relive the terrifying events of the night. “It was a warehouse,” I began. “Old, abandoned. There was a lot of empty space inside, with catwalks along the walls. And there was machinery and crates along the edges. The chair they had me tied to was in the center, under a bright light...I think the warehouse was near the old wharf.”

As I spoke, Zara’s fingers flew over her tablet, pulling up satellite images and blueprints. Marcus asked pointed questions about guard positions and weaponry, while Mario made notes on potential entry points.

“I think I’ve found it,” Zara said after a while. “Based on Miss Prescott’s description and the route she took to escape, it has to be this warehouse in the industrial district.” She pulled up an image on the large screen on the wall.

Steele studied the image, his brow crinkled in concentration. “Good work. Now, let’s talk strategy. Rousseau will be expecting a rescue attempt. We need to be smarter, faster, and more unpredictable than he anticipates.”

For the next thirty minutes, we hashed out a plan. It was complex, multi-layered, with contingencies for every possible scenario. Steele thought of angles I never would have considered, his mind working like a master chess player, always several moves ahead.

“The key,” he explained, “is misdirection. We need Rousseau to think we’re coming from one direction while we actually attack from another. And we need to do it in a way that doesn’t put Cooper in more danger.”

He turned to Zara. “I need you to hack into the city’s power grid. At exactly 9:00 p.m., I want a rollingblackout to hit the industrial district. Make it look like a system malfunction, nothing that would raise suspicion.”

Zara nodded, her fingers already dancing across her keyboard. “Consider it done.”

“Murphy,” Steele continued, “your task is to create a diversion on the east side of the warehouse. Make it loud, make it flashy. I want Rousseau’s men focused entirely on you.”

Murphy grinned, an excited glint in his eye. “With pleasure.”

“Mario, you’re with me. We’ll use the chaos of the blackout and the diversion to infiltrate from the west. Our priority is locating and extracting Cooper.”

“What about me?” I asked, stepping forward. “I want to help.”

Steele shook his head. “Absolutely not. It’s too dangerous. You’ll stay here with Ashlynn.”

I felt a surge of frustration. “But I know the layout of the warehouse. I can help you find Cooper faster.”

“She has a point, darling,” Ashlynn interjected, placing a hand on Steele’s arm.

Steele looked between us, his jaw clenching. Finally, he sighed. “Fine. But you stay close to me at all times, understand? No heroics.”

I nodded eagerly, relief flooding through me. “I understand.”

“Alright, people,” Steele addressed the room. “We move out in ten minutes. Gear up and be ready.”

I watched in awe as Steele’s team transformed from sharply dressed professionals into a sleek, efficient tactical unit. They moved with practiced precision,checking weapons and comms with a synchronicity that spoke of years of working together. If I hadn’t been so terrified, I would have been impressed.

Steele approached me, holding out a bulletproof vest. “Put this on,” he said, his tone sharp. As I strapped it on, he continued, “Remember, when we’re in there, you follow my lead. If I tell you to run, you run. If I tell you to hide, you hide. Got it?”

“Got it,” I replied, trying to squish the nervous flutter in my stomach.

At precisely 8:30, we moved out. The night was cool and clear as we piled into a nondescript van. The drive to the warehouse district was tense, the silence broken only by last-minute checks of equipment and comms.

As we neared our destination, Steele’s voice came through the earpiece I’d been given. “Zara, status on the blackout?”

“Ready to initiate on your mark,” came the reply.

“Murphy, everyone in position?”

“Affirmative. Ready to light this candle.”

“Alright, people. Remember, our priority is Cooper. We get in, we get him out. No unnecessary risks. Zara, initiate blackout in 3...2...1...Now.”

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